


First Impressions are Important

by keikasate



Series: An Electric Soul, a Heart On Fire [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alcohol, recruitment quest, violence in the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2016-04-20
Packaged: 2018-06-03 08:42:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6604288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keikasate/pseuds/keikasate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feynhel Lavellan asks the Inquisiton to send aid to a village he is helping defend. He certainly doesn't expect the Herald of Andraste to show up, much less that the Herald is his clanmate.<br/>Joining the Inquisition will prove to be more fun than he thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Again, I wrote this a while back so please excuse any mistakes. The chapters are also a little short. Safrian Cardis belongs to my friend Asher.  
> There's also a little violence at the beginning, if I need to add a warning please let me know.

  Feynhel wasn't one for leadership positions, but boy was he a sucker for people in need. He'd been helping a village fend off all sorts of attackers since he'd arrived months ago. The town was small but abundant in resources,it was the most likely reason it was being attacked. He knew they could easily ask for help from the Inquisition, but the villagers had been adamant on sticking it out at the time, bandits weren't too tough apparently.

  Feyn knew better though, especially when he saw Red Templars slowly trickle into the small town. The villagers started losing morale as they had fewer and fewer soldiers to fight.  
He sent word to the Inquisition when it seemed apparent that if they didn't receive help they would die within weeks. He didn't expect an immediate response, or even one at all, but he told the slowly dwindling population that he sent for aide. They all seemed to have renewed hope and energy.

 It was a week since he sent for help and the situation was teetering on the line of dire. Another wave of Red Templars surged into the village and Feyn stood with the remaining seventeen soldiers and two mages. This would likely be the fight that either saved or condemned them. If he abandoned this village now rather than die fighting, we wouldn't forgive himself.

 The fight started out well enough, nobody died yet, only templars. Then, one of the mages was caught off guard, and soon followed some of the villagers. Feyn focused on wide ranged attacks, though he grew more tired as it went on. Slowly, more townspeople fell and Feyn found that he had more energy, boosted by anger and willpower. The fountain in the middle of the town was only a few hundred feet away, if the fight advanced past it, their loss would be certain.

 Feyn rushed a Templar, freezing his arms and bowling him over, using his boot knife to slit his throat. He sent out a chain of lightning to help give the others an edge and wheeled around at the sound of clanging armor. He braced himself by using his staff as a shield against a heavy sword swung down at him, the weight of it alone making his staff crack. He furrowed his brow in thought for a moment before sacrificing his poor, cheaply made staff to the big scary sword that loomed above him.

  As his staff broke, he closed the gap between him and the red templar and shoved his knife into his enemy's heart through a gap in their armor.  
He huffed in exhaustion and surveyed the field, there wasn't a soul not covered in blood, dirt, or some mixture of the two. The battle seemed winnable, there were still a good amount of opponents but there were no reinforcements seen or heard for the red templars.  
He quickly grabbed what remained of his staff and was about to give one more rallying cry to finish off the rest until he heard the clopping of horses.  
 

  Entering the town at the other end was a small party holding inquisition banners. Finally. The remaining village soldiers gave out a rallying cry, Feyn included, and rushed the last of the Red Templars. He was certainly surprised to see blasts of magic that weren't his own, but it proved to be a comfort.

  After lots of yelling, bashing,blasting and stabbing, the fight was over. Feyn pulled his knife out of some poor red templar's neck and wiped the blade on his pants before sheathing it in his boot. It was then that, after catching his breath, he finally took a good look at the Inquisition party.

  The party consisted of a dwarf, a human and an elf who both seemed to have expensive taste judging by their clothes. When Feyn got a better look at the leader of the party he all but sprinted and nearly tackled the poor man. The rest of the party tensed for a moment, but relaxed when the recipient of Feyn's volatile hug put up a hand.

 “Pirras you idiot, I thought you were dead! When I heard about the conclave I thought for sure that'd be the end of you!” Feyn quickly let go and stood back, grinning at the taller man. He let out a laugh and clapped Feyn on the shoulder.

“Oh come now, couldn't you have had a little faith in me? Don't get me wrong, as tough as i am, becoming the so called ‘Herald of Andraste’ is better than dying don't you think?”

“You're shitting me.”

“Wish I was.”

“So you've got the glowing hand and everything?”

“The glowiest hand you've ever seen.” As Feyn stared at his friend’s hand in awe, a villager approached and cut in.

“Pardon the interruption, but we still need to dispose of the corpses, could we get a hand?”

****  
  The night had just begun to fall, and most of the townspeople were either celebrating their victory, or mourning the dead. Feyn was glad to be among the former, having just arrived in the tavern with Pirras’ party, who he'd still been neglected to be introduced to.

  A loud cheer sounded throughout the building as the ‘saviors’ found a table along with drinks on the house. He was glad that they'd all had a chance to clean up though,because as often as he was covered in the stuff, he didn't quite like the feeling or the smell of being covered in blood.

 “Now that we've all washed up and got our liquor; why don't you formally introduce us to your friend, Pirras?” Dorian chuckled and tilted his glass in Feyn's direction.

“How forgetful of me, allow me to introduce you. This is my clanmate, Feynhel Lavellan. He has a terrible knack for getting dirty all the time,and rather enjoys hoarding books when he's not doing the former.” At Pirras’s introduction, Feyn gave a mock bow while laughing. Pirras motioned to his party members for them to continue with their own introductions.

“The name's Varric Tethras, I'm the one that'll be writing the story of how the hole in the sky was closed. So, if you want a fantastic story told about you,look no further.”

“I'm Saf, I don't dig the whole dirt magnet thing, but I could probably help you pick out better clothes. Yours look terrible, did you give them to a mabari as a chew toy?” Feyn feigned being shot by an invisible arrow and shrugged.

“I just need them to protect me from the elements, but I wouldn't mind new clothes,so I might just take you up on your offer.” Saf laughed at that, along with the other party members before Dorian cleared his throat.

“Obviously, the best was saved for last. I am Dorian Pavus, the best looking one here, as well as the one who could probably drink all of you under the table.” At his remark, Feyn leaned in and quirked up an eyebrow.

“Is that a challenge or a fact, Ser Pavus?”

“Just Dorian will do. The answer to your question though, is up for interpretation. A fact, if you'd like to keep your dignity. A challenge, if you find excitement in losing coin as well as your breeches.”

“Easy there Sparkler, we still don't know what this guy's capable of. Though if our dear Harald would like to fill me in, it'd make watching the two of you puking your guts out later a lot more enjoyable.” Varric elbowed Pirras from across the table and Pirras folded his arms.

“But you see Varric, if I told you, then _I_ wouldn't be having any fun.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite pastime is butchering elvish.

  Feyn awoke with a start,he sat up quickly and then immediately covered his eyes and felk back down.

  
“ _telahna_ , Feynhel. You'll make it worse.” He peeked through his fingers to find Pirras sitting in a chair next to the bed,already dressed and drinking tea. Feyn groaned but slowly sat up, his head pounding.

  
“I remember making a bet..and a few drinks..” Pirras chuckled.

  
“You bet all your coin against someone you barely know and lost horribly. In fact, you were the only one that actually passed out.”

  
“Would it be sad if I said it wasn't the first time that's happened?” Feyn reached out for Pirras’s tea, but he moved it out of reach and handed him a cup of water instead.

  
“You act as if we didn't live in the same clan for like 6 years. Oh, and I roomed with you last night, _someone_ had to drag you off the floor. You know, it's actually rather late, almost...eight in the morning? My party and I need to head back to Haven soon if we want to get back quickly.” Feyn squinted in irritation and stood up, fixing his clothes and hair so they weren't a mess.

  
“Then why didn't you wake me earlier? I may have a hangover but I can still ride a horse.” Pirras quirked an eyebrow at the shorter elf.

  
“You're coming?”

  
“I only stayed in the village because they needed aid and I happen to be the biggest sucker in Thedas. Besides, I like fighting, and you obviously need more help.” Feyn shimmied on his (very dented) armor and shot Pirras a look that enunciated his point. Pirras laughed and opened the door.

  
“You've got me there, they're working me to death faster than this mark is. And don't forget; you've still got to pay Dorian, you lost the bet after all.” Feyn groaned and nodded, carrying his things out of the room and next to the table where the rest of the party was standing as well. Pirras waved at him and Feyn watched briefly as he walked around the tavern, talking to townspeople and being generally sociable.

  
“Well well well, didn't think we'd see you up before we left. With that terrible headache you must have and all.” Varric chuckled and looked up from cleaning his crossbow.

  
“What your dear Herald failed to consider, was that my desire to get in on this whole demon killing action overwhelms any ailment that may befell me.” Feyn laughed lightly as he sifted through a bag and pulled out a coin pouch, removing a gold and some silver coins before plopping the pouch in front of Dorian.

  
“So, you're man of your word; I like that.” Dorian grinned and inspected the pouch before putting it away with his things. Saf laughed into his fist and tugged on Feyn's sleeve, showcasing a largue hole in it.

  
“At least once we get you to Haven you can get yourself some better clothes.”

  
“I...that actually sounds nice. I'll make sure to do that.” Feyn scratched his jaw sheepishly, realizing his clothes were in fact, a complete disaster. After paying the tavern keeper a tip with his remaining coin, he walked out with the rest of the party to where all of their horses were being kept.

  
“Say, is it really as cold as they say it is up in Haven?” Feyn's question sparked a small round of chuckles as the party mounted their horses. Pirras clapped him on the back.

  
“You'll feel it when we get there.”

 

*****

  
  When the group arrived at Haven, everyone except for Pirras and Feyn went their separate ways. Pirras insisted that he introduce him to everyone while Feyn was still mostly clean.  
After a change of clothes, the first people he met was Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast and Commander Cullen Rutherford. Both had been training with troops but it was hard for him to tell if he made a good impression or not. They briefly spoke with Spymaster Leliana, she seemed busy but looked glad to see he was alive. He was told she was the one who received his message and passed it on. The last person Pirras personally introduced him to was Josephine, she was very friendly and extremely versed in politics. She greeted him warmly and they talked for a few moments before the three of them walked out of her office.

  
 “Feyn, I've got a war table meeting to attend, our requisition officer can show you to where you'll stay later. See if you can get Saf, Dorian, or Varric to introduce you to everyone else.” Feyn and Pirras parted ways for the time being and he walked around Haven for a bit, taking the liberty of buying himself a new staff. Only after thinking about where the others might be did it occur to him that he didn't actually know where they were.

  
 After wandering around aimlessly for a bit, he was a little spooked when he heard someone call out behind him.

  
“You seem lost.” He turned around and found that he had somehow walked past Dorian, who was standing behind him.

  
“Well, I'm not anymore; you're just the man I was looking for, actually.”

  
“Oh? Just can't get enough of me can you? What can the _charming_ Dorian Pavus do for you today?” Feyn chuckled in response.

  
“ I was hoping you wouldn't mind introducing me to the rest of Pirras’s companions, since you seem to be quite the sociable man.” Dorian laughed, but waved his hand.

  
“Well, I am quite the social man, but not many people want to get chummy with the ‘Evil Magister from Tevinter’."

  
“What a shame, then I take it I'll have to ask someone who isn't ‘the Evil Magister From Tevinter’ for a tour?”

  
“Perish the thought, I'll give you a tour so grand that people will line up and pay to hear me talk about how dreadfully cold the south is. Why, the Elder One himself might show up and say ‘admission for one please’! Of course our dear Herald would then blast hI'm, to bits.” Feyn laughed and followed Dorian as he began walking. They stopped by to see Varric, who insisted he come along and document everything.

Haven was feeling more like home by the minute.


End file.
